


Rogue Wave

by RuminantMonk



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuminantMonk/pseuds/RuminantMonk
Summary: A brief respite by the sea.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart
Comments: 14
Kudos: 182





	Rogue Wave

It was a balmy evening and everyone was asleep. Cloud and Barret had retired to their rooms shortly after a hasty dinner and Yuffie was currently curled up on the bed on the other side of the room. Tifa wasn’t sure if she was sleeping. If she wasn’t, it was clear she didn’t want to talk. She’d been oddly sulky since they arrived in Costa Del Sol, likely caught up in one of her moods. Tonight, Tifa was too tired to attempt to coax her out of it, not that that had ever worked.

Next to her, Aerith was sleeping—she’d passed out mid-afternoon, skipping dinner entirely despite having been the most enthusiastic about exploring the novelties of the beachside town. The unexpected confrontation on the Shinra ship had taken a lot out of everyone, Aerith most of all—the more mana she spent, the longer it took for her to recover.

Truthfully, Tifa longed to leave the villa, to get out and soak in the sights and sounds and all that fresh ocean air… but venturing out on her own, at the moment, felt like a tall order. Being outside had always been one of the few things that could distract her from her worries—Cloud’s headaches, the fact that Aerith hadn’t eaten, the cause of Yuffie’s moods, where they were even going and why—but the idea of being alone with her thoughts kept her firmly in place.

So, she’d decided to stay in, ignoring the fact that the tension and uncertainty in her heart wound tighter and tighter with each passing minute. But… it was okay. She’d convinced herself as much. It was better to be near everyone, even if she was the only one who was awake. Because as much as she hated to admit it, she would rather take the loneliness that came with being around her companions over the loneliness that came with being on her own. Besides, she probably couldn’t handle the vacationing tourists and their carefree smiles right now, not with her head swimming in circles. In the midst of all this summer, she felt a lot like winter.

Next to her, Aerith stirred. She pushed off the blankets and shook her head groggily. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine,” Tifa said, keeping her voice low.

Aerith stretched her arms in a long, languid movement. “Did you guys already eat?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” Tifa felt a little foolish, thinking she could have at least saved some leftovers. A thought occurred to her. “But if you want to grab a bite to eat, I can come with you.” She paused. “If you want.”

Aerith smiled. “Yes, please.” She motioned to Yuffie. “Is she… ?”

“Hey, Yuffie,” Tifa whispered. The only response was a sound halfway between a grunt and whine. Tifa tried calling her name again, but Yuffie stayed facing the wall. Aerith shrugged and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“Let’s get changed and get out of here.”

Tifa traded her crop top for the bathing suit top she’d bought on a whim earlier in the day and pulled on a loose shirt to protect against the evening chill. Aerith changed into a shorter, lighter dress Tifa had seen her wear just once before, back at Fort Condor.

Tifa made one last attempt at getting Yuffie’s attention before Aerith tugged at her arm and pulled her away. Aerith always seemed to have an easier time recognizing a lost cause.

The cool night air welcomed them when they stepped outside, and Tifa was immediately glad to have left their stuffy hotel room. She took a deep breath and sucked in cold the scent of salt and brine. It was refreshing—she would never take clean air for granted again.

They found a food stand near the edge of the plaza that sold skewers of meat and vegetables, along with puffy stacks of sweet frybread. Tifa sipped on some fresh coconut water while Aerith ate her late-night dinner. When Aerith struggled with a particularly stubborn piece of grilled chicken, Tifa helped her separate it from the wooden skewer. She watched as she took a bite. The joy on her face was visible and Tifa was reminded that every leg of their trip was likely a new experience for the girl who’d grown up knowing little beyond the borders of each slum sector. Aerith’s open enthusiasm made her feel more appreciative, in a way. Even with all this uncertainty, there was pleasure to be found in newness.

They bought cups of cubed fruit for a handful of gil to take with them on their walk. Tifa bit into a piece of melon and savored its creamy texture and lingering sweetness, hardly believing how cheap fresh produce could be when it had been so hard to come by in Midgar.

There was a slowness to the night air. Above their heads, colorful string lights glowed soft and golden, and all around them, people were talking, eating, drinking. It was a popular spot for couples, it seemed, so many of them paired off and leaning in close to each other, sharing private murmurs and laughs. It must be nice, Tifa thought, to take pause solely for the sake of creating new memories. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d known such luxury. Maybe when she was a child, while her mother was still alive.

They approached a small group of people dancing to the music of steel drums. Aerith shimmied on up ahead and Tifa watched her hips sway to the beat as she wove through the crowd. She turned on her heel and winked at Tifa before twirling back around. All Tifa could do was follow after her and in that moment, she understood why it was that Aerith could so easily command the attention of anyone within her vicinity. She was witnessing just what it was that Cloud and Tseng and all the others saw in her—Aerith’s charm was infectious. It drew you in, made you want to be around her, like a flower leaning toward the sun. Tifa couldn’t even be jealous, really, because she, too, was prone to these effects.

They stopped for a moment to watch the band play. Aerith held up a chunk of pineapple with her fork. “I think this one’s my favorite. I’ve never had anything like it.”

Tifa nodded. “I’ve only had pineapple a few times, but mostly out of cans.” She fished some out of her cup and nibbled on it. Undercutting the sweetness was a sharp tang. “It kind of hurts my gums a little.”

“I know. That’s why I like it.”

Aerith peered into her face. “You have a little something—” She reached forward and wiped away a smear of juice on her chin. Tifa’s breath caught in her throat and a sudden heat spread over her cheeks. She glanced down at Aerith’s mouth before looking away, embarrassed. The air thrummed with tension until Aerith broke the silence with a short laugh and an easy smile.

When they were finished, they tossed the empty cups into a wastebin and resumed walking through the plaza at a leisurely pace.

Aerith wondered out loud what it would be like to grow a fruit tree. She’d only ever grown flowers, and even then, the soil back in Midgar made it hard to maintain a consistent crop of blooms.. Tifa recalled how, at first, she had felt awkward around her. Aerith was naturally chatty and for a while, this had made her feel a bit inadequate, like she was always contributing less to their conversations. Now, Tifa was comfortable with letting her fill spaces of silence with the music of her voice. Tifa liked to listen and Aerith didn’t mind talking. Somehow, this particular dynamic never felt like an uneven exchange. She suspected they each felt more secure in their respective roles, easily falling into a natural sort of rhythm of give and take, ebb and flow.

The crowd began to thin on the outskirts of the plaza. They made their way down towards the beach which, for the most part, was empty save for the occasional straggler, the rest of the tourists having migrated closer in to the town. Right now, it was too chilly for a swim and the beach was dark, cloaked in the deep indigo of night. When Aerith removed her shoes and stepped barefoot into the sand, Tifa followed.

Tifa was grateful for the quiet and the soft lapping of the waves, even if it was hard to make out Aerith’s features in the dark. The evening breeze tickled the back of her neck and sent goosebumps down her spine. It occurred to her she’d never seen the ocean at night. Waves broke white in rolling, black waters. In the distance, she could spot the tiny lights of a freight ship dotting the horizon. A twinge of guilt interrupted the relative calm.

“Yuffie got sick on the boat ride over,” she said. It only just occurred to her now that this might have been the source of her foul mood.

“Oh, I know. She nearly blew our cover she was throwing up so much.” Aerith’s voice was teasing. “Have you ever heard of a naval officer that got so seasick?”

“I tracked down some dramamine for her. It was lucky I found someone selling them on deck.”

“It’s a shame they weren’t selling any tranquilizers.”

Tifa laughed. “You’re horrible.”

“I’m just kidding. I know she’s just a kid.”

Tifa sighed. “I feel kind of bad leaving her alone at the villa.”

“You’re sweet.” Aerith held her gaze. Sometimes, Tifa didn’t know what to make of the way Aerith looked at her. “Anyway, don’t feel bad. Some people actually want to be left alone when they’re in a bad mood.” She paused and looked away. “Others, not so much.”

Tifa thought about herself. How she was a little bit of both. How all her troubles lately clung to her like burrs. Except now, being around Aerith was somehow helping her forget even the most pervasive of her doubts. It was like they simply fell away in her presence. She also thought about the way Aerith sometimes stared off into the distance, like she was disappearing to some place where no one else could follow.

Aerith pointed to the ground. “Hey, someone’s left some towels. They look pretty clean. Do you want to camp out for a bit?”

Two striped towels were tossed side-by-side on the sand. She supposed most people would be put off by the idea of using another person’s towels, but neither of them was particularly germophobic; they were both slum girls who’d spent enough time in a city full of grime to have long lost any sense of squeamishness. They shook the sand from the towels and sat down on them, cross-legged.

Tifa looked up at the sky. It was so clear she could almost make out the creamy, galactic swirls behind the spray of brilliant white stars. “The stars are beautiful out here.”

“You and your stars.”

Tifa half-considered sharing with her a distant memory, but ultimately decided it was something she wanted to keep private. But maybe she already knew. Aerith seemed to just know things in a way that went beyond simple intuition.

“Can you still hear the planet?”

Aerith was quiet for a moment. The short silence was enough to make Tifa second-guess herself and wonder whether she’d crossed a line, asked her something she wasn’t ready to answer. Instead, Aerith laid down on the towel and stretched out, her face tilted up to the canvas of stars above them. Tentatively, Tifa followed suit.

“I can still hear it, yeah.”

Tifa remembered the day they left Midgar, how quiet Aerith had been, overwhelmed by the wide expanse of the natural world—a sight so foreign to the Ancient who’d spent all her life under the shadows of a metal city.

“Has it gotten any better?”

“Easier.” Aerith sighed. “But sometimes, it’s still too much. It feels wrong to say, but I miss all the noises of the city. It gave me a break, you know? Out here…” She waves her arm in a slow, open arc. “It’s undiluted. The ocean is helping, though.”

Tifa hummed in response. “I think I know what you mean.” In Midgar, she’d always felt so small and on the days she wasn’t consumed by loneliness, she took comfort in her own insignificance. One tiny star in a vast solar system.

“Why don’t we listen to the sea for a while?” When Tifa turned towards the direction of her voice, she found Aerith staring back at her. “I know how much you love your stars, but let’s close our eyes and listen.”

Tifa closed her eyes. The unceasing crash of water against water. In her head, she could see the tide cresting and breaking and foaming. Bubbles forming on a flat, damp shore. Soft rolling waves grew louder the longer she listened and soon, she felt herself being swept up in the flow of something larger than herself. Aerith sometimes spoke of the Lifestream and Tifa wondered if this was what it felt like, returning to the planet.

A soft movement next to her broke her out of her reverie and suddenly, Aerith was on top of her, propped up on her arms with hands planted on either side of her head. Tifa sucked in a breath. Aerith stared down at her. Even in the dark, Tifa could see the green of her eyes.

“There’s something about you,” Aerith said. Her breath was low, breathy. “What is it, I wonder?” That steady gaze travelled slowly down her body. “Besides the obvious, I mean.”

Tifa couldn’t find the words, much less address the question being asked of her. Thoughts raced through her head, like how she ought to be surprised by all of this, even if deep down, she wasn’t. Because Aerith was the kind of person who caught the light and turned it back at you. And all you could do was reach for it, try to grasp it. Like pieces of glitter—sudden, shimmering beauty, ever so elusive.

“You’re sweet, you know?” Aerith’s face was so close and her voice, a low murmur. She reached down and Tifa felt the soft pad of her thumb brush against her bottom lip. She parted her lips almost instinctively. Aerith leaned down. Their mouths met and it was remarkable, really, the way Tifa could hear the sound of her own breath even through the overwhelming softness of Aerith’s lips.

Aerith’s hand trailed slowly up the flat plane of her stomach and over her ribs until Tifa could feel her fingers sneaking under the strings of her top. She inhaled sharply and Aerith surged forward, deepening the kiss until it felt like they were sharing the very air between them.

Tifa wound her fingers through Aerith’s hair and pulled her down until skin was touching skin. It felt good, she thought, to lose herself in the sensation of touch. Nothing could trouble her now, not with the sound of seawater rising and folding and breaking all around them and the taste of Aerith so sweet on her tongue.


End file.
